


The Accidental Art of Secret-Keeping

by NamelesslyNightlock



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Misunderstandings, Secret Relationship, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, the Avengers are not particularly observant, where the fact that it is a secret is a secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 01:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13179924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: The best way of keeping a secret is to pretend there isn’t one.—Margaret Atwood…or, five times Tony told the Avengers about Loki and the one time they finally caught on.





	The Accidental Art of Secret-Keeping

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [【霜铁霜无差】无心插柳的保密艺术](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15378825) by [Fayland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fayland/pseuds/Fayland)



> I've realised that in my other frostiron fics I glossed over the Avengers' reactions to learning about Loki, and decided to do something different. Turns out I'm good at glossing over real reactions, and then this became the most fluffiest thing I have ever written in my life, and I had to throw a bit of angst at it just so that I could cope with it. It's also ginormous. Oh well, have at it.

 

It was the quiet moments that Tony most appreciated. The moments when the rest of the team were asleep, or out, or too busy or too tired to bother going up to the penthouse or arrange their frustratingly frequent team bonding exercises. The moments when Tony was able to simply lounge with the one person he was free to just _be_ with, someone who just _got_ him, to not have to pretend to be something different than what he was.

They had always been simple, as impossible as that may seem. It might have appeared insane from the outside, and perhaps it was, but to them they were simply Tony and Loki, and they had one of the oldest stories in the book. They started off enemies, then one went to the other for help in a dire situation. Favours were exchanged and ‘just business’ transformed into friendly visits, which quickly turned into something so much deeper, and so much more.

And it all accumulated to one quiet moment where Loki had casually wondered how the Avengers would react to their relationship– but Tony knew Loki well enough by that point to recognise that the god wasn’t being casual in the slightest.

“I’m not going to hide this,” said Tony, holding his hand to Loki’s cheek and looking deep into those wary green eyes. “I’ve never cared what anyone thought of me beyond the image that I cultivated, not even those that are close, and I’m not about to hide the best thing that has ever happened to me just because it might make a few people uncomfortable. And maybe it’s horribly cliché, but the only person who could stop me from screaming this from the heavens is _you_.”

Loki let out a soft chuckle that was filled with emotion. “Sometimes there are moments when I doubt even _my_ ability to stop you _.”_

“Aww.” The fondness in Tony’s voice was real despite his teasing grin. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Loki would never do something so uncouth as snort, but his reluctantly amused expression still conveyed the sentiment. He didn’t move away though, so Tony counted it as a win.

“Can I take this as you agreeing with me, then?” he asked, just to be sure.

“Anthony,” Loki sighed, though he seemed pleased by Tony’s earlier speech, a shadow lifted from his eyes. “What you do or do not tell your teammates is up to you. It matters little to me.”

“Liar.” Tony smiled softly as Loki twitched in annoyance. “Tell me. Really.”

There was a beat where Tony didn’t think he would get an answer. Loki’s eyes were wide and overly bright, and there was a certain vulnerability hiding in those green depths that Tony rarely saw. The openness remained as Loki lifted his own hand to cover Tony’s where it still rested on Loki’s cheek. The added contact seemed to steady him a little, and despite the softness of tone, Loki’s words were sure.

“In my experience, good things don’t last long. What I have only stays so long as I’m willing to fight for it. And this?” Loki’s eyes flickered down to where his free hand was curling in Tony’s shirt, and then glanced back up to meet Tony’s gaze quickly, even surer than before. “I want to fight for this. For _us_. And I don’t feel like I can do that from the shadows.”

Tony held Loki’s gaze, and shifted his own spare hand so he was cradling Loki’s face between both palms.

“You know,” he said, moving in closer so there was only a hair’s breadth separating them, “Fighting from the shadows was never my style. I’ve always been more of a spotlight and flashy suit kind of guy.”

Loki tilted his head down and closed the distance, their lips pressing together in something sweet and careful, so unlike how they started. Tony wasn’t aware of moving consciously but soon his hands were in Loki’s hair and he could feel fingers pressing into the back of his neck, and he sighed into the kiss with complete and utter contentment.

“I suppose there’s only one thing left do then,” Tony whispered, his lips still brushing against Loki’s with his reluctance to move away.

“But not _yet_ ,” Loki corrected, the glint in his eye giving away his intentions a half second before he surged forward again, this time aiming lower. Tony moaned as Loki licked and sucked and _bit_ with anything but sweetness, and he tilted his head to allow the god better access.

“Not yet,” he agreed wholeheartedly, though he didn’t even try to keep his voice steady. “But soon. I _promise._ ”

 

**_ one _ **

When Tony walked into the kitchen on the common floor at seven thirty one Sunday morning and stated that he had something to _announce_ , Steve was instantly wary. For starters, the engineer usually avoided the common kitchen due to Steve’s attempts to force him to eat anything other than a liquid breakfast. Secondly, Tony looked far too awake for his usual at that time in the morning unless he had been working for at least a solid two hours beforehand. And finally—

Well, honestly, it was just _weird._

The occurrence was so strange, in fact, that Bruce turned off the stove and thus risked ruining the giant omelette he was in the middle of crafting - something he had not even done when Clint had fallen out of the vent in the kitchen ceiling and almost _landed_ on the stove the week before.

The thing was, Tony didn’t even look like his usual self. Sure, the goatee was the same, his t-shirt and jeans combo was one they had all long since got used to, but there was something off about his usual confident demeanour. The strut and the arrogant tilt to the chin were still there, but it was like there was a chink in his usual armour, and a spark of vulnerability was showing through.

Steve’s gaze caught on Tony’s hands, which were fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. Tony seemed to notice that he’d seen, though, and quickly stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“What’s up, Tony?” asked Bruce, turning bodily away from the stove to face Tony square on. “What’s the big announcement?”

“Well, perhaps not _announce_ , exactly, because I don’t think this is something that _needs_ announcing,” Tony said, his words quick. “But it is something that you are going to know, and it’s better if you know it from me. And it’s not something I think I need to specifically _tell_ you, but I also feel that I owe you enough to not blindside you, so–“

“Spit it out, Stark,” said Clint, he and Natasha coming around the couch to join in on the conversation properly. Thor, following their lead, put his pop tart down on his plate and gave Tony his full attention. They, like Steve, had clearly already worked out what this was about. They’d known for a while, after all.

“Okay.” Tony visibly steeled himself. “I’ve got a chance here, all right? A chance at the best thing that could ever happen to me, and I’m not letting it go, no matter how dangerous or risky you guys might say—“

“It’s alright, Tony,” said Steve, deciding to put his friend out of his obvious misery and cutting in.

Tony paused, clearly shocked. “It… it is?”

“Yes.” Steve glanced around at the rest of the team, barely managing to hide his annoyance at receiving only encouraging smiles and being obviously volunteered to continue talking. “We know.”

Tony’s eyes impossibly widened further. “ _You do?_ ”

“Yes.”

Tony remained unresponsive, and Bruce chuckled.

“We’ve known for a while,” Steve admitted, “And I’m sorry, I know it might seem like we were prying into your personal affairs, but we didn’t mean to go looking. It’s more that you didn’t hide your intentions.”

“And you’re _all right_ with it?”

“We all understand that it’s… going to be difficult, but we’re your teammates. Yes, it’s going to be risky, but we’ll stand with you through it all, Tony.”

Tony swallowed hard, averting his eyes, and Steve smiled fondly at the sight. He knew that Tony didn’t do emotion well, but the fact that he wasn’t running proved that they were making progress.

It was at that point that Bruce actually moved away from the stove and placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“We’re all here to support you, Tony,” Bruce said, his smile adding a tilt to his words. “No matter what.”

Tony made a choked noise in the back of his throat, and for a moment Steve thought he might be about to lean in to give Bruce a hug, but it didn’t last, and Tony stepped back with a short cough.

“Well, thanks guys,” he said, his voice a little wet. “I’m glad I got that off my chest.”

“Ha,” said Clint. “Punny.”

Tony shot Clint an odd look, but otherwise ignored him and made his way back to the elevator, snagging a pop tart from Thor’s box as he went by. But he paused before reaching the doors, and turned back to face the team.

“This... really does mean a lot to me,” he said. Then he nodded once, and left.

“Well, that was weird.” Clint shrugged, but didn’t head back to his previous seat.

“It was bound to happen eventually,” said Natasha. “We know he’s been thinking of getting the reactor removed for months.”

“It’s what powers his suit, though,” Clint replied. “It gives him an irreplicable passcode to Iron Man, like a security system that’s impossible to cheat.”

“It’s also very painful, and very unhealthy,” Natasha cut in. “You saw the report from my undercover mission.”

“Yeah. But he fixed that.”

“It’s still one big off button in the middle of his chest,” she pointed out.

Clint frowned, but seemed to finally understand.

“I thought it was too dangerous to remove the reactor,” Thor said, his own frown in place. “If not, why has Stark not had it removed before now?”

“Because it _is_ dangerous,” Steve explained, having received an abbreviated explanation from Pepper when he had asked. “But I believe there has been a breakthrough in some kind of technology that Tony believes will help him.”

“I wish I had heard of this earlier,” Thor said. “I’m sure I could ask in Asgard for a healer to come down to Midgard. With all that Stark has done for the Nine Realms, they would not deny him a procedure that could save his life.”

“Asgard could fix him?” Natasha asked, eyes widening.

“Magic can do many things,” Thor replied.

“Clint, your breakfast is done,” said Bruce effectively bringing the conversation to an end.

“You made me breakfast?” Clint asked, chuffed, as he watched Bruce flip the omelette onto a clean plate.

“I had a spare,” Bruce shrugged, before turning back to crack a few more eggs into the pan.

There was a small pause while Steve, Natasha and Thor all watched Clint dig into his omelette with gusto, before—

“Aw, man! It’s all rubbery!”

 

**_ two  _ **

Natasha didn’t go down to Tony’s workshop very often, but then, she wasn’t often one for heart to heart conversations, either. But it had been weeks since the team had _the_ conversation, and Tony had yet to make any move regarding the surgery.

He was stalling, and Natasha needed to find out why.

The workshop was always the best place to corner Tony. Not because it was there that Tony lowered his guard, though that certainly did help. But because when he was there, he was _distracted_ , and a distracted Tony gave up information he didn’t plan on releasing.

JARVIS let her into the shop just as he always did, warning her that Tony was working on a project.

“Hey Natasha,” Tony said, barely moving his gaze from the pieces of metal in front of him. “What do you need?”

“What are you working on?” she asked, half because asking him about his projects was one way of getting Tony to open up, and half because of honest curiosity.

By way of explanation, Tony simply gestured to the bench in front of him, an open invitation to look.

On the bench lay two knives, and they were beautiful.

The blade was a fair bit longer than what Natasha would prefer, and when she picked one up and held it in her hand, she felt a stab of disappointment. Whenever Tony had made any blades for her, they had been perfectly balanced for her hold, and designed specifically to fit exactly into her hand. But the grip on this knife had been crafted for hands that were larger than hers, though still slighter than Steve’s or Thor’s. She wondered if they could be for Clint, for a moment, but quickly dismissed that thought also; Clint’s hands were similar, but she _knew_ the feel of his grip, and it didn’t match that handle. She toyed with the idea that they could be for SHIELD agents, but abandoned that thought almost immediately: Tony hadn’t made weapons for SHIELD in years. Perhaps, then, they were simply prototypes.

She turned to Tony with a question on her lips, and he answered without any further prompting.

“They’re going to be magic resistant,” he said, grinning proudly. “They’re for Loki.”

His smile was infectious, and Natasha did not stop herself from returning it. There was always something refreshing about watching Tony with his work; it was rare to find someone who put so much effort and so much care into what they did, and Tony was looking at those knives with such affection that, if Natasha hadn’t known better, she might have said rivalled the way he looked at his helper bots.

And honestly, he deserved to be proud. If Tony managed to make magic resistant weapons to use against Loki, then the Avengers would have far less difficulty against him in battle. Perhaps, once he had the basic formula, Tony would be able to use the technology on a cage that could actually _hold_ the god of mischief for _real_.

“This is great, Tony,” she said, smiling again as she saw his eyes light up in response. “Amazing, actually. You really think you can do it?”

“Well, yeah,” Tony replied, his tone insulted. “Of course I can. I have data from Loki’s magic, obviously, and I’m cross checking that with analysis of our fights with Amora, Doom, and other magic users, as well as the little we have on Stephen Strange. I’d like it to be as efficient as possible on a defensive front, while still able to be augmented offensively.”

Natasha tilted her head. “Sounds like a tall order.”

“Yeah.” Tony shrugged, then shot her a wink. “Worth it, though.”

“Definitely,” she agreed, nodding firmly.

“Now,” said Tony, gently taking the knife from her and placing it back with its partner. “What was it that you were after?”

And Natasha might be capable of cruelty, but she was far from heartless. She could see how enraptured Tony was with his work on the knives, and she was loath to cut it short with a discussion of mortality, bodily weaknesses, and surgical risk.

“Steve asked me to remind you to eat,” she lied, and Tony rolled his eyes.

“Capsicle needs to keep his nose out of my business,” he said, turning back to the monitor he was using to scan a pile of metal shavings, which were glimmering gold in the artificial light. “I ate recently.”

“Four hours ago, Sir,” said JARVIS, and Natasha was honestly surprised.

“See?” said Tony, glancing up long enough to wink at her victoriously. “You can’t tell me that isn’t an acceptable amount of time between meals.”

“You also asked me to remind you that you are due for dinner in the penthouse in one hour’s time, Sir,” JARVIS added, and Tony grinned.

“Awesome. I’d better get the finishing touches done on these knives then,” he said, and Natasha recognised the dismissal for what it was.

“I’ll let Steve know that you’ve eaten,” she said, and then headed for the door. When she glanced back through the glass, Tony was smiling down at one of the knives, his expression once again one of pure adoration. Natasha felt a fond smile make it’s way across her own lips as she headed away from the workshop, pleased with her decision.

The arc reactor could wait— for now, Tony could keep to his peaceful inventing.

 

**_ three _ **

Bruce was fairly used to being the odd one out in Avengers Tower, and that was okay. He honestly thought he was the most _normal_ person on the team, even including what happened when his heart rate rose too high.

In all honesty, it was definitely more than okay. Bruce, after all, was used to being the odd one out wherever he went, but here, his difference was relished rather than scorned. He was the odd one out, but he still belonged, and that was all that mattered.

He knew that a huge part of his belonging was thanks to Tony Stark.

That, however, didn’t stop him from giggling right along with Clint when Tony waltzed into the common floor one early afternoon looking like he had just rolled out of bed.

Well. In all probability, he most likely _had_. The picture painted by the dark marks that trailed across Tony’s neck and disappeared beneath his shirt left little to the imagination, after all.

“Have a good night, Stark?” asked Clint in that tone of voice that would have earned him a raised finger if it had been anyone else. But Tony merely looked up, his eyes flashing with the challenge.

“Oh the _best_ ,” Tony replied, a lazy smile playing across his lips. Then his eyes widened in mock innocence that was at complete odds with the taunt in his voice. “You?”

And _there_ was the rude gesture, just being flipped by the opposite person than expected. Well, no. Bruce knew them well enough to have predicted _that_ outcome.

Clint was left to flounder for an appropriate response that didn’t sound petty while Tony turned to raid the fridge.

“Here,” said Bruce, handing him a platter of fruit that had been left over from lunch.

“You’re as bad as Steve with all the healthy food you throw at me,” Tony said, but he took the platter anyway with a grateful smile. Of course, he then started to pile on chips and pop tarts out of one of the cupboards, as well as a chunk of meat from the fridge that Thor had eaten most of, but which remained very sizeable.

“You need to recoup your energy, Stark,” Clint said gleefully. “Want to make sure you can keep up.”

“Oh there’s definitely no need to worry about that,” Tony said with a smirk.

Clint was left glaring again.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” said Tony, picking up his platter piled high with a mix of fruit and junk food, “I’ve got a literal _god_ waiting for me upstairs, and if I take too long he’s likely to just up and leave to scavenge for food somewhere else.”

“Always so dramatic, Stark,” said Clint, throwing a grape at Tony’s retreating back.

And really, thought Bruce, Clint deserved the cherry that hit him square in the eye. He wasn’t the only member on the team who could aim, after all.

 

**_ four  _ **

It was eleven o’clock at night and Thor was _bored_. It was both too late and too early for company, as most of the team had retired to their chambers when the movie had finished a half hour before. Thor knew that if he waited a while, several of his teammates would be up and in the kitchen due to their nightmares, but he also knew that most of them preferred solitude during those moments. Rarely, they would accept silent company, but Thor had been the cause of enough late night stress and upsets to understand that sometimes, distance was more appropriate. Midgardians, he’d found, dealt with the aftershocks of battle far differently than Asgardians.

So it was that Thor decided to head to the one teammate he knew he would find still awake at the late hour.

“JARVIS?” he asked, respectfully glancing at the ceiling despite knowing that was not where the AI resided. “Where is Stark?”

“Sir is currently in the training room, Mr Odinson,” JARVIS responded, and Thor nodded his thanks before stepping into the elevator.

The training room in the tower truly was a marvel, at least by Midgardian standards. While lacking the physical prowess and stamina of the monsters Thor loved to train with back at home, the holographic and mechanical opponents Stark had created made up for it with their ferocity, and Thor loved to spend time in there.

As Thor approached the room, his grin widened. The sound of charging repulsors and explosions sounded just like the sort of entertainment he needed.

However, the moment he stepped through the door Thor knew that he had been wrong. Stark’s movements were too tense, too forced, and too vicious to be coming from anyone other than a man blowing off steam, and Thor couldn’t help but worry about the state his friend had worked himself into.

Because this, _this_ was a response to trauma that Thor was familiar with.

He stood and watched for a few moments, quickly recognising that Stark was too lost in his destruction to notice Thor’s presence. Iron Man was flying through the air, not far from the high ceilings of the training rooms, and there were holographic adversaries coming at him from all directions. Not a single one got within five yards of the flashy armour, though, as he spun, aimed, flipped, and fired with incredible dexterity. It was only when Stark shouted out for JARVIS to set more of a challenge that Thor saw an opportunity to step in.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Thor shouted up, calling for Mjölnir and donning his armour in a static flash. “I have yearned for a good fight these past days.”

Tony didn’t respond verbally, but nodded sharply after a moment’s pause before gesturing for JARVIS to restart the program at a higher level.

“Fantastic,” Thor announced, swinging his hammer and preparing for glorious battle. “We shall vanquish these enemies together, Stark!”

Between the two of them they tore through the holograms with dangerous precision, repulsors, hammer, fists, and lightning cutting easily through artificial ranks. But Thor continued to keep one eye on his friend, and he noticed as Stark’s attacks slowly began to wane. JARVIS also noticed, it would seem, and cut off the simulation. Iron Man hung in the air for a minute before slowly drifting back down. His boot repulsors cut out a yard above the ground, and he landed heavily, falling to his knees.

Thor waited quietly, knowing how to be a silent presence, doing nothing more than just being there, and he didn’t move closer until Tony’s helmet pulled back into the suit, revealing his gaunt face.

“I can take care of myself,” Tony said, his words firm despite the blankness in his gaze.

“I know that,” said Thor, keeping his voice low. “You’ve proved it time and time again.”

“I _can_.” Tony turned his head, and his eyes focused as his gaze caught with Thor’s. His voice was still firm, still sure, but somehow, Thor knew that his friend was only trying to convince himself. And usually, there was only one reason for that necessity.

“Who told you any different?” Thor asked carefully, crouching down to place a hand on Tony’s metal covered arm.

“He thinks that I’m reckless,” Tony said. “He says that I’m not careful enough with my own life.” He snorted. “As if he has any room to talk.”

“And he wants you to be more careful?” Thor knew he was coming into this half way, but he also had muddled through enough to know that Tony was clearly talking about a person who had grown close to him.

“He’s acting like Pepper,” Tony groaned. “And I _told him so_. Why did I do that? That was so _stupid_.”

Thor was just thinking of how to respond to _that_ when Tony’s eyes brightened just a fraction.

“Why am I even– you’re the expert here, you’ve got _centuries_ of experience dealing with– You can help me!”

Thor gaped. “I don’t know why you think that,” he said, “But my only relationship experience prior to Jane was with Sif, and that ended _very_ badly. Though that was mostly _Loki’s_ fault—“

“And that’s exactly why you’re the best person to ask!” Tony said.

Thor frowned again. “Because Loki ruined my relationship with Sif by cutting off all her hair and making me choose him over her after he annoyed a few dwarves?”

Tony wrinkled his nose. “Okay… maybe not because of _that_ exactly, but you have to see where I’m coming from here. You’re my best hope right now.”

Thor sighed. “All right. Tell me what happened.”

As if he had almost forgotten, Tony groaned at the reminder, and put his head in his newly degloved hands.

“He gets that I’m Iron Man,” Tony said, voice muffled by his fingers. “He does get that, he’s _not_ like Pepper. I shouldn’t have said that. But he thinks I need to be more careful, and I _told_ him that I don’t take reckless risks, not any more, not since– not since _him_ , you know? I told him that I only risk what I have to so I can help the team, but that’s the part he doesn’t get. He doesn’t think I should be risking myself for you guys.”

Thinking back, Thor thought he could pinpoint exactly the moment that had caused this issue. Earlier in the day, Doctor Doom had attacked a small factory on Staten Island. He had been dealt with fairly easily, but during the scuffle Barton had been picked up by one of the Doombots and thrown into the air. Iron Man had caught him, but had flown through a blast to do so, which cut out both of his boot repulsors. Iron Man had clearly turned himself in the air to protect Barton and the archer had been able to use the added time to fire a grappling arrow to save himself, but there was no way he could carry Iron Man. If not for Thor himself, Stark would have fallen to his death.

“I’ve already added to the armouring around the repulsors, and added a contingency should both cut at once,” Stark was saying. “I’ve _fixed_ it, haven’t I?” His voice lost some of its pleading tone and turned harsh. “He’s being _stubborn._ ”

Thor knew that he was missing a large part of the story, but he was tactful enough not to ask, knowing that his friend would react only negatively to any invasive questions. Instead, he clapped his free hand to Stark’s shoulder so they were eye to eye, and spoke in the most calming voice he could manage.

“I understand that this upsets you,” he said, making sure to keep his expression open so Tony would know that Thor remained on _his_ side in the conversation, “And I know that you have been hurt. But, if you think that you can, I would like for you to look at this from _his_ point of view for a moment.”

That Thor didn’t even know who he was referring to didn’t seem to faze Tony in the slightest, and a small crease formed between the inventor’s eyes as he thought.

“He’s just being stubborn,” Tony repeated, though there was far less bite to the words than before.

“If he were here, would he not say the same thing?”

Tony’s frown deepened.

“I’m not saying that he’s _right_ ,” Thor clarified, “But I think you need to consider his side in order to understand how to fix what happened.” He paused for a second. “ _Do_ you want to fix it?”

“Yes,” Tony responded immediately, and Thor was gladdened by the lack of hesitation. But– “I don’t think it’s down to just _me_ to fix it, though,” Tony continued, his eyes sad and downcast. “It’s something I learned with Pepper, you know? It always takes two, not just one, and it’s up to him to do something as well.”

Thor nodded thoughtfully. “I agree. My mother used to tell us that we should not be with a person who is not willing to put in just as much effort as ourselves.”

Tony’s eyes sparked at that. “Frigga told you that? You and Loki?”

“Yes.”

“Any other gems of wisdom from your mom that might help me out?”

Thor knew that he wouldn’t receive a better opportunity to move to the second phase of the Asgardian coping cycle. Clapping Tony once on the shoulder, he stood, and then held out one hand.

“Come,” he said. “I can repeat many pieces of advice my mother has given to me over the years, or we can simply commiserate together. However, I believe that we should do so somewhere more comfortable.”

Tony took the offered hand, and as Thor pulled him up the suit disassembled.

“What are you suggesting?”

Thor smiled. “I think you know.”

And as Tony immediately began to lead the way toward the penthouse and its fully stocked bar, Thor thought he was correct in his assumption.

 

**_ five  _ **

There are times when the alarm to Assemble goes off that Clint thinks _oh thank god._ Those times are when he’s stuck in an awkward conversation, usually, but also include when Cap tries to get him to spot in the gym. Dude’s weights are _heavy_. The times when the alarm goes off and Clint thinks _fuck yes_ are the times when there’s nothing to do, when Thor’s eaten all the pop tarts, when Tony has been hidden in his workshop for thirty two hours and nothing has gone boom for double that.

Then there are the times when the alarm goes off at ass o’clock in the morning, and the words that go through Clint’s mind really shouldn’t be repeated in polite company.

But Clint reckons that what he thought when they arrived in the middle of Central Park was probably reflected by his teammates across the board.

Of course, _of fucking course_ it was Loki.

It was like he had waited until the most inconvenient time; so early that no sane person was awake, but close enough to sunrise that more than a few insane people were in the park completing their morning jog. Which meant that not one of the Avengers - not even Steve - were properly awake, and they had civilians to worry about.

“Tell me,” said Bruce, squinting out of the quinjet, “Because I haven’t had my tea yet this morning and I’m not sure that I’m not seeing things, so please tell me straight– are those _trees?”_

“Yes,” said Thor. And Thor looked tired as well, but different-tired from the rest of them. Thor looked less I’ve-been-woken-up-at-ass-o’clock tired, and more I’ve-been-awake- _since_ -ass-o’clock tired. The difference was subtle, but Clint was a pro. For that matter, Tony had a similar look in his eyes, though he also looked - and smelt - a bit like he’d been drinking. Nothing new. Though, if Clint were being honest, that hadn’t happened in a while.

“Trees,” Steve said, his tone that of a man who had seen too much to not take it in his stride. “How many are we counting?”

“They look like they’re herding the civilians towards the Castle,” Natasha chipped in. “Loki’s further over, on the lawn. He seems to be directing from there.”

“Civilian count?”

“Difficult to say from here.” Natasha glanced to the display that showed heat signatures across the park. “At least twenty by the Castle. A few more scattered around.”

“This is my fault,” Tony grimaced, and Clint had to hold in an eye roll. _Self-hating idiot_.

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, Stark,” Clint said, his tone perhaps a little harsh, but babying was _not_ what they had time for right now.

“Clint’s right,” Natasha said, though she said it more matter-of-factly and less get-your-shit-together…ly. “You can’t blame yourself for everything that bastard does. We put him away, Asgard let him get out. That’s on them, not _us_.”

Tony frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

Steve sighed. “Tony. Look, we all took the Incident hard, okay? We all have things we wish we could have done better, things we wish we had done differently. But that’s all in the past, and we have to learn to live with it.”

“This has _nothing_ to do with the Incident,” Tony snapped, his eyes flashing. “This is about what happened earlier tonight! Tell em, Thor!”

Thor, to his credit, only looked _slightly_ confused. “Tony and his other half had a disagreement,” he said, and Tony grinned victoriously.

“See, Thor gets it.”

From the look on Thor’s face Clint rather thought he _didn’t_ , but let it go. Tony seemed happier, though, and regardless of _why_ , Steve took it as the opportunity that it was.

“Right, here’s how it’s going to go. Iron Man, Thor, air support. Take out as many of those… things…”

“They look like Ents to me,” Tony cut in. “Honestly, it makes sense. We only watched that movie last—“

“Take out as many as you can,” Steve continued, shooting Tony a glare. “Keep your distance. If you can keep them off our backs, we can focus on Loki. Clint, find some high ground, you know the drill. Natasha, you approach Loki from the south, I’ll head in from the north.”

“And me?” asked Bruce.

“Stay in the quinjet for now,” Steve replied, and Bruce sighed with relief. “If we get buried, I’ll call you in to help with the… Ents.”

“Of course, they aren’t _exactly_ Ents,” Tony said. “They’re moving too fast. Though, we did have that conversation about an actual outer-space species of living tree and how they were similar but smaller and that if you could somehow _merge_ the two—“

“Stark,” Natasha snapped, cutting him off. “Intel states that Loki’s merely animated some of the park’s trees. No space-tree-merging involved.”

“Shame,” Tony sighed.

“I think I preferred when you were moping,” Clint added, and Tony shot him an annoyed glare. But at least he was back to normal.

“Whatever. Need a lift?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Tony dropped Clint off on the roof of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, giving him a clear sight line to Loki who, as Natasha had observed, was parading around on the Great Lawn, directing his giant, animate trees this way and that.

“Guys, I got eyes on Loki,” Clint said, “But I think he’s got some kind of shield up.”

“Agreed,” said Thor. “I’ve seen this before. Nothing will get in there until Loki is distracted.”

“Right,” said Tony, and Clint watched as Iron Man arced high above the lawn before shooting straight downward. “I’ve got this.”

“Iron Man _no,_ ” Steve snapped, but it was too late. Tony was powering towards the shield at such a speed that nothing was going to stop him, and Clint flinched as he prepared for the inevitable explosion as Tony hit the shimmering green shield. But, a fraction of second before Tony was about to smash into the shield it flickered, and then disappeared, and Tony’s decent was halted as he was caught in a web of green light instead.

“See?” said Tony, his voice sounding strained. “Distracted.”

Steve didn’t curse, but it was a close call. Clint could tell.

“ _This is exactly the sort of behaviour I was talking about_ ,” someone screeched, and it took Clint a few more seconds than it should have to realise that it was Loki, his voice so loud that it was being picked up by Tony’s coms. Clint watched as the green light carried Tony to the ground and set him down directly opposite Loki.

“And you’re dealing with this how?” Tony sounded angry, but not enraged. He almost seemed sad-angry. Bitter-angry. Perhaps even disappointed-angry. “Destroying things? Really?”

“It’s a better coping mechanism than yours,” Loki growled. “Yet another self-destructive tendency you need to think about.”

Tony didn’t reply to the obvious taunt, but Loki, unfortunately, caught on to what Clint had noticed earlier and grasped onto the easy opportunity to hurt.

“And now you’ve answered a call to Assemble while _drunk?”_ Loki sounded both horrified and angry, and Clint thought he was most likely insulted by the fact that Tony didn’t think him a big enough threat to fight sober.

Well, Clint had seen Iron Man fight in both states of mind, and honestly? There was something to be said about the pure recklessness and _ruthlessness_ that Tony fought with after a glass or eight.

It probably wasn’t _healthy_ , though.

Nor was the colour Cap was turning as he shouted uselessly into the coms about Tony taking his helmet off to reply to the crazy sonofabitch ( _sorry, Thor_ ). Clint could see it clear as day, and Cap was several hundred yards away and flipping over the top of a walking tree.

“He can’t hear you, Cap,” Clint said. “You know he can’t. We’re just going to have to get in there.”

“Hawkeye, now that the shield is gone, can you take him out?” Natasha asked.

Loki was leaning in close, his face tight with what _had_ to be fury, his hand reaching over to wrap around the back of Tony’s neck in a near chokehold.

“I haven’t got a clear shot, guys,” Clint said, his fingers tightening on his ready drawn bow, his eyes narrowing as he watched Loki shift even further behind Tony. “I could hit him, but the asshole is fast. He’s caught my arrows before, and he’ll only have to move Stark a fraction to the left and Tony’ll be dead.”

“Hold for now, Hawkeye,” Steve ordered. “Nat, can you get around the other side?”

“I’m pinned down, Cap,” Natasha replied, her breath short. “There’re civilians here, and more trees than I can hold back alone—“

“I’m on my way to aid you,” Thor replied, and Natasha relayed her thanks quickly.

“Code green?” Bruce asked, his voice scared, but Clint knew he’d do what was necessary to help Tony.

“Not yet,” said Steve, sounding strained. “You heard Widow, there are still civilians in here. We can’t risk it.”

“Understood.” Bruce matched Steve’s tone, worry and stress evenly matched. “Let me know if anything changes.”

“We need stop these things before they do any more damage,” Steve instructed. “Hawkeye, what’s the status?”

“We ain’t got much time here,” Clint snapped. “Loki’s practically got Tony in a chokehold—“

“That is not my brother’s style,” Thor cut in, his words punctuated with crashes of thunder as he struck at the trees that Natasha had been holding off. “He is more than likely planning something more intricate, involving illusion and tricks.”

“It sure doesn’t look that way.” Clint’s eyes narrowed and his fingers yearned to release his arrow as he watched Loki lean in even further, his lips practically brushing Tony’s neck. “Fight back, you bastard,” Clint muttered, physically _aching_ with the fact that he still didn’t have a shot. “Fight _back_.”

“I cannot come to Stark’s aid without leaving this group of civilians,” Thor said, clearly distressed by Clint’s words. “Black Widow and I are needed here.”

“I’m almost there,” Steve said, and yes, Clint could see a flash of blue and red only fifty yards and one more animate tree away from Tony and his captor. But it wasn’t going to be enough. “What’s going on up there, Hawkeye?”

“I think Loki’s saying something,” Clint replied, watching as Loki’s lips moved, and as far away as he was Clint knew he wasn’t imagining Tony’s shudder. “What if it’s a spell?”

There was a telling pause where the only noise was that of combat.

“I’m almost there,” Steve repeated, his voice tight with more than just exertion, and Clint’s breath hitched with hope because he was, he was _almost there_.

And then, with a twist of a wrist and a flash of green, both Tony and Loki were gone.

 

**_ +one  _ **

Tony was still in shock when they appeared in their bedroom, still gaping at Loki with eyes wide and cheeks a little damp. Loki’s words were still ringing in his ears, bouncing around his skull to the point where he could process little else. Had he imagined it? His mind was telling him that he probably had, but his heart was burning with possibility that he hadn’t.

“Did you hear me, Anthony?” Loki asked, and Tony forced his eyes to focus.

“No, I don’t think I caught it,” Tony managed to get out, and Loki chuckled. “Can you say it again?”

Loki smiled so brilliantly that the corners of his eyes crinkled upward, and Tony was momentarily – impossibly – distracted. But then Loki spoke, his voice bright and clear.

“I love you, Anthony Stark.”

Oh. Okay, so it _had_ been real.

“Oh,” he said aloud, and then immediately gasped in horror as he realised that Loki had just _declared his love_ and Tony had responded by—

But Loki was laughing again. So. It was probably okay.

“You don’t need to say anything back,” Loki said, and, oh it was _not_ okay, because Loki was talking fucking _casually_ again. “But I need you to understand why I _can’t_ agree with your desire to throw yourself in front of the line of fire to save someone else. No one else matters as much as you do, and I can’t lose you. I won’t, and I—“

Tony threw himself forward and crashed their lips together, trying but probably failing to pour everything he felt for Loki into one act of physical affection. Loki’s arms snaked around Tony’s waist and held him tight, like he never wanted to let go.

And Tony _got_ that. He knew what it felt like to know that the one good thing you had could be ripped away at any second, because in the past, before he’d come clean to the other Avengers, he’d had to sit through strategy meetings where his own teammates would discuss the best way to take out Loki. But Loki was a god. Tony was only a mortal, and a vulnerable one at that, what with the reactor, and Loki– well shit, Loki had probably been living in fear this whole time.

“I’m right here,” Tony said, tightening his hold so that Loki remained a solid weight against him. “And I need you to listen. Lokes, I’m not going to change. You know that, you have to, you know me better than anyone. I’m not going to stop being Iron Man, and I don’t think you want me to.”

“That’s not—“

“Shh,” Tony leaned in to press another soft kiss to Loki’s lips before continuing. “I know. Just let me finish.”

Loki nodded reluctantly.

“All right. I’m not going to change– at least, I’m not going to change _that_. And I can’t promise that I’m not going to take risks, because that goes hand in hand with being an Avenger, and I am always going to do everything I can to help not only my friends, but everyone else as well. But I can promise that I will _try_. I won’t take risks that aren’t necessary. I’ll be more _careful_ , and I’ll make sure I ask for help before flying into a dangerous situation.”

Tony’s eyes flickered across Loki’s face, trying to discern his thoughts. Loki’s eyes were wide and open, bright green in the dim light of the bedroom.

“Thank you,” he said, and Tony shook his head.

“No. I’ve been reckless, and I should have thought about how _you_ felt about that.”

Loki smiled softly. “You sound like you’re quoting someone.”

“Your brother, actually,” said Tony, chuckling when Loki started. “He was actually pretty helpful.”

“He can be surprisingly insightful,” Loki grudgingly admitted. “But let us not talk of Thor right now.”

Tony grinned, and instead of replying, he pulled Loki back down.

Then, with equal speed, Tony pulled away again.

“Anthony,” Loki groaned in irritation. “If you pause any longer…“

“I love you too, you know,” Tony said casually. “Alright, pause over. Let’s get back to what we were doing.“

Loki’s grin was blinding, and when their lips collided this time, Tony was pretty sure they were both pouring everything they had into the kiss.

But before they could go any further—

“Sir.”

Tony growled, and pressed himself against Loki harder. Loki, however, pulled back ever so slightly with a soft sigh.

“What is it, JARVIS?” Loki asked, smiling as he felt Tony rest his head on Loki’s shoulder with a groan.

“The Avengers are worried about Sir’s whereabouts,” JARVIS explained, the stress in his artificial voice almost palpable. “Shall I inform them?”

“That is probably best,” Loki replied, and Tony groaned again.

“No,” he whined. “They saw you take me, they know I’m all right. They can leave us be for a bit.”

“If we don’t appease them, they will simply show up unannounced,” Loki countered.

“I agree with Mr Liesmith’s assessment,” JARVIS added.

“JARVIS, you are getting far too fond of Rudolph,” Tony complained. “Should I be jealous?”

With a chuckle, Loki pulled his arms from around Tony and stepped back. “Never.”

Loki then turned to head for the door, but Tony reached out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him. When Loki looked back, Tony met his eyes with a soft smile.

“I love you,” he said, feeling a thrill at the ease of it. And he knew that, if it meant he could see Loki’s eyes light up just like that every time, Tony would be saying those words a lot more in the future. He was sure there was nothing that could beat the feeling of knowing that _he_ was the one to put that happiness on Loki’s face.

It’s not often that Tony is proven wrong immediately. But—

“And I love you.”

Tony took a step forward to press a single, chaste kiss to Loki’s lips.

“Alright,” he said, threading their fingers together and moving towards the door, pulling Loki behind him. “Let’s tell my team to fuck off so that we can fuck in peace.”

Loki’s musical laughter echoed in the room behind them.

By the time they reached the common floor, the Avengers were waiting for them, still in full uniform and clutching at their weapons.

“What the hell is this?” asked Clint, his bow drawn and trained on Loki.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” said Tony, confused. He felt Loki move beside him, and Tony let go of Loki’s hand and shifted to make sure he was firmly between them, blocking Clint’s view.

“Tony,” said Steve, holding out the hand that wasn’t gripping his shield, ready to throw. “Come over here.”

“No.”

“Captain.” Thor’s voice was low, nowhere near as strained as any of the others’. He sounded more curious than anything, and Tony caught his gaze hopefully. “I believe I know what is happening here.”

“Enlighten us, then,” said Clint.

“My brother and our friend are having relations,” said Thor, not quite matter of fact as little of his amusement bled through. “It makes sense now; it would seem that they vent their anger after a disagreement in very similar ways.”

“What,” said Tony and Clint, matched in timing but not in tone.

“Oh,” said Bruce, starting to smile. “I see.”

“How long has this been happening?” Natasha demanded, sounding almost personally insulted by the fact that she hadn’t known.

But that didn’t make any sense.

“But you guys know about Loki,” Tony said, confused. “You’ve known for weeks. _Months._ ”

“Uh, no,” said Clint, shaking his head, an arrow still nocked but no longer aimed at Loki. “Definitely not.”

“Are you seriously telling me that the one time I decided _not_ to keep something a secret, it actually stayed hidden?”

The Avengers all looked a little sheepish. Well, except for Bruce, who honestly appeared to find the whole situation hilarious, and the amusement glinting in his eyes matched the mirth dancing through Loki’s.

“I told you guys about this,” Tony whined. “Multiple times.”

“No,” said Clint, finally placing his arrow back in his quiver and folding away his bow. “You _definitely_ didn’t.”

“You told me you already knew,” Tony said again, then paused in his pouting to shoot a glare at Loki, who was failing to hide his chuckles behind a hand. “And don’t you start. This is all your fault, after all.”

“How? You assured me that they supported your decision to be with me.”

“I _thought_ they did,” Tony muttered, glancing warily up to his teammates and taking a small step closer to Loki, making his decision - should he be forced to make one - clear.

“We thought you were talking about your decision to remove your arc reactor,” said Natasha, realising where the misunderstanding had started.

“My arc reactor?” asked Tony, confused. “Loki had mentioned that he might be able to help with its removal, but I haven’t given it serious thought yet. I was hoping to consult with Strange on the matter of mixing Earth medicine with magic, first.” Tony paused in horror. “So you… you honestly only just found out about Loki and I?”

Bruce nodded for all of them.

“Fuck.” Tony ran his hands over his face, and Loki brushed his upper arm with his fingertips in comfort.

“Tony…” Steve started, and Tony looked up with hope.

Steve cast his gaze around around and then rolled his eyes with annoyance as, once again, it would seem that the team elected him as their spokesperson through a series of pleading glances. Steeling himself, he turned back to Tony.

“We are going to talk this over,” said Steve, his voice hard. “In length. But…” Tony gulped at the pause, but when Steve continued, it was with a fond smile. “I meant what I said, Tony. We’ll stand with you.”

Bruce smiled softly. “No matter what.”

Tony, for the second time, was left gaping, looking between his teammates in shock. He was brought out of it by cool arms wrapping around his waist, and Tony sighed with pleasure as Loki rested his chin on his shoulder.

“I must admit that I like this side of your teammates,” said Loki. “Perhaps I will enlist them in my endeavour to encourage you to care for your own welfare.”

Tony cursed as, honest to god, Steve’s eyes lit up at the prospect.

“JARVIS,” Tony said quickly, “Deny Loki and Steve any access to the workshop.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Sir,” JARVIS replied. _Traitor_. “My primary directive is to care for your wellbeing, and I believe their presence is beneficial to your health.”

“It’s settled,” Tony groused. “I’m officially jealous.”

Loki’s chuckle sent small vibrations through Tony’s body as Loki pressed a kiss to his throat. And with Loki’s lips turning up into a smile against his skin, Tony found himself unable to hold on to his annoyance.

“High praise,” Steve commented, his own smile firmly in place.

“Too right,” Tony agreed. “JARVIS gets it. Loki’s here to stay.”

“That I am,” said Loki, lifting his head to meet Tony’s lips with his own. Tony turned in Loki’s grasp to yield a better angle, his own arms tightening around Loki’s back as he pulled them closer together.

“Oh man,” Clint complained over Thor’s joyful chuckle. “I think I preferred it when I _didn’t_ know.”

And Tony, clinging tightly to both Loki and the knowledge that he would never have to let go, simply began to laugh.


End file.
